I fell in love with Silas. My bodyguard. My protector.
My new informant.
We’re playing a cat-and-mouse game. I’m not sure whether I’m the cat or the mouse, but I can definitely tell I’m in a trap.
A trap with no way out.
I’m not who everyone thought I was. The truth is out there, finally turning the lie about me inside out. I am the shameless little lie. It’s finally been revealed, and now even more people want to kill me.
As a presidential campaign hangs in the balance, a delicate web of international relations and economic stability at risk, power becomes more important than anything else.
Even my life.
Especially my life. I’m a nothing. A no one. Just a tool, remember?
But tools can be used to open locks. Cracking open the truth and exposing it could change the balance of power. Tip the scales. Make a presidential campaign turn on a dime.
Too bad Silas doesn’t believe me when I tell the truth.
And that may make him the biggest tool of all.
A Shameless Little Lie is book two in the Shameless trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine
Read the whole series:
Book 1: A Shameless Little CON
Book 2: A Shameless Little LIE
Book 3: A Shameless Little BET
And then the something moves.
“Hey,” Silas says, his voice coming from above. “She’s awake.”
I open my eyes, then shut them quickly to make the spinning stop. The world is full of random objects that move in and out, forward and back, my depth perception put in a blender and puréed.
“What?” I whisper, his hand on my shoulder. I want him to stroke my hair, to bring me ginger ale, to keep me safe and let me relax.
“You fainted,” he says, voice somehow both taut with worry and gentle with concern. “Right into my arms.”
“You have good arms.”
“I like them.”
“So do I.”
I roll in his lap and look up into those bright eyes full of mirth and worry. “Can you sit up?” he asks.
“It feels so nice here. I could sleep here forever.”
Someone clears their throat in the distance. It’s a masculine sound.
“She okay?” the throat-clearer asks from another continent away. Or maybe the front seat. It’s hard to tell.
“I think so,” Silas responds, easing me up slowly.
“I did not consent to sitting up,” I murmur, snuggling in.
“And I didn’t consent to being your pillow.”
“But you’re a good pillow. The best pillow ever.”
“Jane?” Silas asks slowly. “Are you on something?”
“On something? I’m on you.” My muscles go slack, body in need of this all-too-short moment to enjoy being at rest in a place of sanctuary.
Rumbling makes my head move lightly as he–is he laughing? “No. I mean, did you take a drug, or a pill? You’re acting very weird.”
“Have we met? Come on. You try going through what I’ve been through these last few days, then faint, and come out of it perfectly sane,” I grouse.
As I come to a full upright position with my back against the upholstered seat, I realize it’s not just me, Silas, and–oh. The throat-clearer is Duff.
Drew is behind him, their heads huddled together as they speak through the window.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just tired and a little weary from having my entire life blitzed to smithereens.”
Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.